Sunday, October 25, 2009
Grammie, soccer and the patch
So Grammie is visiting, flew up on Friday so she can attend Emma's 'Grandparents Day' at school on Monday. She flies up every year for this, Emma is always so grateful. Grammie was able to see Emma in action on the field on a beautiful fall day as well, and then the team walked next door to the pumpkin patch. We did a little 4x4 driving in the parking lot (serious bog of mud and water) but it was kinda fun. Carl and I went out with Kristy and Dave for dinner and bowling later Saturday night - I always forget how much I enjoy bowling until I actually do it again.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Soccer weekend
We enjoyed a late afternoon game on Saturday up in Redmond, the fall colors were absolutely gorgeous (in between the torrential downpours). It would rain buckets, and then clear up, alternating throughout the game. The girls love to play when it's wet though, go figure. Emma's team is wearing pink jerseys for breast cancer awareness month, it's a nice burst of color on the field for a change.
We beat Crossfire 2-0! That helped us move up a spot in the standings. After the Redmond game Emma and I joined two other moms and their girls for a trip over the pass to Yakima. Since we were already on the east side of Seattle, it cut about 45 minutes off of our trip had we left from home. We joined the gold team at a really nice Hilton Garden Inn downtown to play in their game on Sunday afternoon.
We got adjoining rooms and of course the three girls claimed one side to themselves - which was just fine, they had a really fun time together. They all play defender positions, so they got a chance to bond together away from the rest of the team. Emma enjoyed a dip in the indoor pool, we had a scrumptious breakfast at IHOP, and then played a quick game before coming back over late Sunday. Funny, I didn't get any pictures of the girls on this trip, but I managed to get one of my friend Amy and me.
We got adjoining rooms and of course the three girls claimed one side to themselves - which was just fine, they had a really fun time together. They all play defender positions, so they got a chance to bond together away from the rest of the team. Emma enjoyed a dip in the indoor pool, we had a scrumptious breakfast at IHOP, and then played a quick game before coming back over late Sunday. Funny, I didn't get any pictures of the girls on this trip, but I managed to get one of my friend Amy and me.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Sweet Seranade
And I use the word "sweet" loosely here :) Emma has been practicing her clarinet today, very well I might add, with only an occasional squeak so shrill that it feels like my funny bone has been hit... but... when Carl got home from Montana last night and heard her he went into the garage immediately. And out he came with his trumpet from the rafters. So the two of them are playing Go Tell Aunt Rody, Hot Cross Buns, Jingle Bells and the likes from the kitchen. Cooper is curled up in my lap with his paw over his head, but it really is fun to see them practicing together.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Emma's "Amazing" Birthday "Race"
Due to our family's love of CBS's Amazing Race, we duplicated it for part of Emma's birthday party this year. We brainstormed how to implement the race within the confines of our neighborhood and I think we were pretty successful!
Just a few pictures from the day:
Sunday, October 4, 2009
October 4th, 1998
Today is our baby's birthday. Eleven years ago today she was born on a Sunday, 10/4, at 4:11 pm - much to our surprise. The nurses in the delivery room were all cheering on the doctor to get her out at 4:10 to match her birth date, but they didn't quite make it. They all thought it was so cute that a young police officer was having his first child on 10-4.
My perfect pregnancy, complete with 0 days of morning sickness or fatigue, and an honestly blissful 8 months had a hiccup that Friday the 2nd. I wasn't feeling my baby move. I tried all the tricks they gave me (drinking orange juice, lying on my left side) and nothing woke her up. We went to the doctor and they put a fetal heart monitor on me and watched the baby for about 20 minutes. "Nothing great, but nothing bad either - kinda so-so" the doctor said. "Come back to the L&D section of the hospital on Sunday for a quick check before you go to work that day." I truly wasn't very concerned, as they didn't appear to be either. This baby had never moved a lot in the pregnancy anyway, I never got those jabbing kicks or legs stuck up in my ribcage like you hear other mothers complain about - she simply was content and snuggled in in my opinion.
So Sunday came, Carl and I woke late as usual (we were both working swing shift), and we decided to run up to the L&D before a quick lunch together, and then head up to work. I had no idea it would be my baby's birthday. Once we got buckled in on the monitor, the baby's heartrate dipped down into the 40's (it's normally in the 140-160 range). The nurses quickly, yet not in a panic, started flipping my body all around the bed to change the baby's position. They requested an ultrasound. Then the ultrasound became a biophysical profile. The ultrasound tech requested the doctor look at the results, not giving us any information. We started feeling anxious. Worried. Why won't they tell us anything? Finally the doctor on-call came in and sat down. He said the baby was in distress, the amniotic fluid was low, and she had to come out today.
We were given two options: induce labor, but I hadn't even started dilating yet, and the baby was pretty high. He said it would be a long labor given those facts, and could result in needing a cesarean section anyway. The other option was to do a cesarean right now. I didn't even blink. Cesarean. Get my baby out. I was kind of excited... my baby was going to be born... I wasn't very worried. And then I looked over at Carl. He was sitting on the ledge of the window. Crying. Scared. It was all happening way too fast and not as we predicted, for him to process. I told him "this is exciting - she's going to be fine - let's just get her out". And he got on board. Within a minute we had nurses in the room prepping me for surgery, and within 10 more minutes I was in the operating room. The doctor told us to prepare for about a 5lb baby, with probably immature lungs. That didn't sound so bad, I thought.
They got my epidural set, gave me something to make me a bit loopy, and Carl was sitting with me at my head. It was so cold, my entire body was shivering. I felt like if I breathed deeply I would fall off of that table it was so stinkin' narrow. (Why do they have to be so narrow?) Time went by, I'm not sure how much, but we never got the "raising the baby in the doctor's hands over the privacy curtain" thing to say "it's a girl!". It was very quiet. Carl saw that they had pulled her out and whisked her over to the heating lamp/bassinet and were checking her over. Finally I heard a squeak. A little squeak like from a dog toy. And I said, "is that my baby?" And yes, it was. Carl had walked over to her and watched the nurses dry her off, clean her up. They brought her to my face. What a little monkey I thought.
Later when I awoke, Carl told me how he stayed with her through all of the examination, the first bath, the drops in the eyes, everything. He got to hold her and be with her, and she held his finger. He then told me the vitals: 3.4 lbs and 16" long. WOW. That is tiny. When do we get to go home? He then tried to explain to me that it would three to four weeks before she could leave. I smiled wide and said "nuh-uhhhhh, come on" thinking he was joking. That would be just like him. But he wasn't joking, and I couldn't see her until the next morning at 5:00am. So Carl brought me some polaroid shots of her (okay, they have stopped making polaroid cameras/film since then!) and I slept my day away dreaming of how I would get to hold her in 12 hours.
She was tiny, but she was strong. She was a beautiful little monkey. Perfect. Not needing a breath of oxygen, or an IV for anything. She simply was tiny and hadn't developed her sucking power yet to go home and nurse or feed. Plain and simple, she just needed some time to do that, and after she could suck on her own for 24 hours straight, we could take her home. That didn't seem so bad.
Twelve days we visited her - five times a day. The hospital was only about 25 minutes away, but we went to every feeding - exactly 3 hours apart. Sometimes we cut it close, and we'd run as fast as we could into the hospital so we wouldn't miss it - and the nurses, bless their hearts, would say "we held her off as long as we could" to allow us to get there. I could go on and on about the nurses, but they were the most wonderful, caring, helpful people in the world. I think they loved Emma as much as we did. They all fought every day for who would get assigned to Emma (1 nurse per baby per shift).
So 12 days later we took her home. Kind of scared, she was only 3.6 lbs now - she didn't fit in the carseat. We had to roll up towels and surround her body and head with a cusion to make the harness work. But she came home and made this couple a family. And we have loved every single minute of it. There haven't been many bad moments... this child is full of grace, compassion, empathy, and goodness. She is our pride and joy. She is our world that we revolve around. And today's her birthday, and we will celebrate her coming into this world at 4:11 today with a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" with 13 of her girlfriends.
Yesterday she and I went to a gourmet cupcake shop to pick up cupcakes in lieu of traditional cake. Cutest little shop ever. We're totally going back in the next few weeks, just she and I, to enjoy a cupcake at the window seat underneath a curtain of crystals.
Here she is in all of her 11year old glory:
My perfect pregnancy, complete with 0 days of morning sickness or fatigue, and an honestly blissful 8 months had a hiccup that Friday the 2nd. I wasn't feeling my baby move. I tried all the tricks they gave me (drinking orange juice, lying on my left side) and nothing woke her up. We went to the doctor and they put a fetal heart monitor on me and watched the baby for about 20 minutes. "Nothing great, but nothing bad either - kinda so-so" the doctor said. "Come back to the L&D section of the hospital on Sunday for a quick check before you go to work that day." I truly wasn't very concerned, as they didn't appear to be either. This baby had never moved a lot in the pregnancy anyway, I never got those jabbing kicks or legs stuck up in my ribcage like you hear other mothers complain about - she simply was content and snuggled in in my opinion.
So Sunday came, Carl and I woke late as usual (we were both working swing shift), and we decided to run up to the L&D before a quick lunch together, and then head up to work. I had no idea it would be my baby's birthday. Once we got buckled in on the monitor, the baby's heartrate dipped down into the 40's (it's normally in the 140-160 range). The nurses quickly, yet not in a panic, started flipping my body all around the bed to change the baby's position. They requested an ultrasound. Then the ultrasound became a biophysical profile. The ultrasound tech requested the doctor look at the results, not giving us any information. We started feeling anxious. Worried. Why won't they tell us anything? Finally the doctor on-call came in and sat down. He said the baby was in distress, the amniotic fluid was low, and she had to come out today.
We were given two options: induce labor, but I hadn't even started dilating yet, and the baby was pretty high. He said it would be a long labor given those facts, and could result in needing a cesarean section anyway. The other option was to do a cesarean right now. I didn't even blink. Cesarean. Get my baby out. I was kind of excited... my baby was going to be born... I wasn't very worried. And then I looked over at Carl. He was sitting on the ledge of the window. Crying. Scared. It was all happening way too fast and not as we predicted, for him to process. I told him "this is exciting - she's going to be fine - let's just get her out". And he got on board. Within a minute we had nurses in the room prepping me for surgery, and within 10 more minutes I was in the operating room. The doctor told us to prepare for about a 5lb baby, with probably immature lungs. That didn't sound so bad, I thought.
They got my epidural set, gave me something to make me a bit loopy, and Carl was sitting with me at my head. It was so cold, my entire body was shivering. I felt like if I breathed deeply I would fall off of that table it was so stinkin' narrow. (Why do they have to be so narrow?) Time went by, I'm not sure how much, but we never got the "raising the baby in the doctor's hands over the privacy curtain" thing to say "it's a girl!". It was very quiet. Carl saw that they had pulled her out and whisked her over to the heating lamp/bassinet and were checking her over. Finally I heard a squeak. A little squeak like from a dog toy. And I said, "is that my baby?" And yes, it was. Carl had walked over to her and watched the nurses dry her off, clean her up. They brought her to my face. What a little monkey I thought.
Later when I awoke, Carl told me how he stayed with her through all of the examination, the first bath, the drops in the eyes, everything. He got to hold her and be with her, and she held his finger. He then told me the vitals: 3.4 lbs and 16" long. WOW. That is tiny. When do we get to go home? He then tried to explain to me that it would three to four weeks before she could leave. I smiled wide and said "nuh-uhhhhh, come on" thinking he was joking. That would be just like him. But he wasn't joking, and I couldn't see her until the next morning at 5:00am. So Carl brought me some polaroid shots of her (okay, they have stopped making polaroid cameras/film since then!) and I slept my day away dreaming of how I would get to hold her in 12 hours.
She was tiny, but she was strong. She was a beautiful little monkey. Perfect. Not needing a breath of oxygen, or an IV for anything. She simply was tiny and hadn't developed her sucking power yet to go home and nurse or feed. Plain and simple, she just needed some time to do that, and after she could suck on her own for 24 hours straight, we could take her home. That didn't seem so bad.
Twelve days we visited her - five times a day. The hospital was only about 25 minutes away, but we went to every feeding - exactly 3 hours apart. Sometimes we cut it close, and we'd run as fast as we could into the hospital so we wouldn't miss it - and the nurses, bless their hearts, would say "we held her off as long as we could" to allow us to get there. I could go on and on about the nurses, but they were the most wonderful, caring, helpful people in the world. I think they loved Emma as much as we did. They all fought every day for who would get assigned to Emma (1 nurse per baby per shift).
So 12 days later we took her home. Kind of scared, she was only 3.6 lbs now - she didn't fit in the carseat. We had to roll up towels and surround her body and head with a cusion to make the harness work. But she came home and made this couple a family. And we have loved every single minute of it. There haven't been many bad moments... this child is full of grace, compassion, empathy, and goodness. She is our pride and joy. She is our world that we revolve around. And today's her birthday, and we will celebrate her coming into this world at 4:11 today with a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" with 13 of her girlfriends.
Yesterday she and I went to a gourmet cupcake shop to pick up cupcakes in lieu of traditional cake. Cutest little shop ever. We're totally going back in the next few weeks, just she and I, to enjoy a cupcake at the window seat underneath a curtain of crystals.
Here she is in all of her 11year old glory:
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